


Brave

by sam_erotica



Category: Supernatural RPF
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-16
Updated: 2016-04-16
Packaged: 2018-06-02 12:01:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,473
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6565336
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sam_erotica/pseuds/sam_erotica
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jensen tried to be just a friend. But suddenly, things changed.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Brave

Jensen Ackles is a terrible liar.

Even as a 13 year old, when lying should have come as naturally as breathing, he owned up to everything without meaning to. Standing still in the summer Texas sun, he looked his Mama in the eye, and tried to say "The kitchen window is broken? How'd that happen?" Except what actually came out sounded more like "I'm sorry, Mama," the bow and the other two arrows dangling in his fingers behind his back.

Later, as a 15 year old getting caught ogling dark-haired Matt during an especially confusing algebra lesson, he can't even invent a lie in his head. He watches the fingers of Matt's left hand sluggishly scrape over the skin of his jaw and neck, and all he can think of is how that skin would feel on his tongue. Matt twitches, turns slightly into Jensen's gaze as if he can feel the weight of it, and hisses "What?" Jensen smiles to himself, looks quickly down at the scribbles in front of him that don't look like algebra, and thinks _Just wondering what your neck tastes like_. The sudden widening of Matt's eyes tells him he'd spoken aloud. He gets his answer after school on Matt's couch, licking and biting under Matt's ear as they roll their hips together.

Now, Jensen is a pretty good actor. He does some television, does some movies. He loves it and works hard at it, and thinks he might actually be pretty good, but doesn't really know what to say when someone else pays him a compliment.

When Jensen meets Jared, a part of him relaxes a bit. Jared babbles, gushes "Wow, great to meet you, man, really..." and some tension in Jensen's shoulders relaxes. The compliments still unnerve him, but Jared smiling slightly down at him makes him feel like the strongest, bravest man alive.

He smiles back. A lot. He laughs more, opens up more, begins to feel like the last few years haven't been all about work. He reaches out to touch at random. And when Jared touches back, knee knocking against knee or shoulder brushing shoulder, Jensen can breathe deeper and easier. He watches Jared line up his cue and sink two balls simultaneously, then spin around on one heel like a child, pointing his long finger in Jensen's face with a triumphant "Ha!" Jensen smiles, feels his heart speed up and a sheen of sweat break out across the back of his neck. His friend Chris catches on almost before he does, leans on his own cue and shoots him a look across the pool table that says "careful" and "you aren't as subtle as you think you are." Jensen thinks _Right. Friends. Just Friends. You can do this_. He ignores the heavy weight of desire in the pit of his stomach and resolves to lie.

Jensen thinks he can be a pretty good friend. He orders the next round, and the next, and watches Jared flirt with a busty, athletic redhead behind the bar. He stays longer than he should after Chris heads out, taking his moral compass with him. When it's just Jensen and Jared and another pitcher and two whiskies and a very dark booth, he almost forgets. He almost forgets that Jared loves soft curves and breasts and Jensen doesn't have those. They're trading stories about past lovers, Jensen's head resting on the dark paneling behind him as he whispers about the first time he had a dick in his mouth. Jared laughs softly, leans forward to refill their glasses, then collapses back into Jensen, relaxed. So damned relaxed and clueless about the way Jensen's skin is searing off his bones wherever they happen to touch.

He listens to Jared describe the last time he ran into an ex at a party and they fell back into each others bodies like no time had passed. And the time he messed around with a friend of his brother's, feeling so confused and excited and scared and hot as they spilled over each other's hands. Fingers clenched around his pint glass, Jensen just listens until it seems Jared has run out of words. Vague jealousy settles heavy in his gut. Jared's story fades away like the sounds of cicadas after dark, and he sighs, an almost sad sound in their corner of the bar.

Jensen turns his head to find Jared watching him intently. Jared's eyes dart quickly over Jensen's face, lingering on his lips then refocusing on the whiskey in his hands. His thumb strokes idly over the condensation as it drags slowly down the outside of the glass.

"I've never felt brave, Jensen, not really. Not when it counts." Jared whispers, pauses. "I want to be brave."

Jensen wants to be a bad friend. He wants to cup Jared's face with his hand, slot their mouths together and learn what that whiskey tastes like when he drinks it from Jared's tonsils. But the redheaded waitress stops by to check on them, then Jared heads for the bathroom without looking back. Jensen thinks maybe he's had too much to drink, thinks he might be going crazy, but finishes his whiskey anyway, and pays the tab.

The short walk back to Jensen's place passes in silence. Jensen feels clumsy as he unlocks the door, but sobers quickly when he feels Jared linger behind. He turns, looks at his friend with new eyes, sees anxiety and desire and a dark possibility he never allowed himself to consider before.

"What now, Jensen?" Jared breathes, looking back at him, raking his eyes over all the parts of Jensen that belong to Jared, if only he would just ask. "What do you want?"

Jensen is a terrible liar. He doesn't want to be Just Friends anymore. He reaches out for Jared's hands, pulls him across the threshold and closes the door, whispers into his mouth, "I want you to be brave now."

 _I want you to kiss me until I can't breathe anymore_ , he thinks, as Jared wraps one hand around the back of his head and spreads the other across his lower back. Jared's lips hover over his own as Jensen pulls them impossibly closer, hands fisting in the loose fabric of Jared's shirt. Jared kisses like he's been starved for it, and maybe that's not far from the truth. Jensen can taste the whiskey on his tongue, and smell the smoke from the bar in his hair as it dangles down in front of Jensen's nose. But Jared doesn't seem nervous anymore. He scrapes his teeth over Jensen's earlobe, lips across his jaw, tongue down the side of his neck. And then their lips are on each other again, and they are moving across the room.

 _I want you to burn my skin with yours_ , he thinks, fingers scrambling at the small pearl snaps of Jared's shirt and the fly of his jeans, flesh hard and eager beneath his fingers. Jensen sighs at the expanse of skin taut across muscle and lets the shirt fall to the floor. Jared smiles like a predator, jeans hanging open. He whispers "Now you," before unwrapping Jensen slowly, piece by piece. He begins to feel like the last birthday present, the special one, the one you take your time with. The backs of his knees meet the sofa and he sits just as Jared drops to his knees and breathes "I need to taste you," reverently, like a prayer.

Jared's tongue is hot and rough and quick, his fingers strong on Jensen's thighs, and Jensen groans into the humid air _Jesus, Jared, Jesus_. Jared moans around his erection, scratches the fingernails of his left hand into Jensen's skin, moves his right hand down to his own overheated flesh. Jensen wants to say _Wait, baby, let me do that_. He wants to unfold Jared and lay him back on the floor, open him slowly with his fingers, lick and suck and bite until Jared begs him to _Please, c'mon Jensen, please, I want you inside me_.

At the thought of sinking slowly into Jared's body, Jensen spasms and tenses, feels himself coming in long, hot pulses into Jared's mouth. Jared pulls back, keeps working Jensen with one hand while the other moves faster and faster on his own cock. When Jared comes, his mouth is open and silent, his eyes are dark and focused on Jensen's face, a dribble of Jensen's come working its way down his chin.

Jensen reaches for it, strokes it away with his thumb, sucks the thumb into his own mouth. Jared stares with something like a question in his eyes, and Jensen just stares back like Jared is all the answers to all the questions.

_I want you to be brave again tomorrow._

_I want you to be brave always._

_I want you._


End file.
